


Of Bruises, Bloody Knuckles, and Post-Mission Patch Ups

by SabbyStarlight



Series: George Eads Appreciation Week 2020! [5]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Quick little post mission patch up, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:02:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22939891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SabbyStarlight/pseuds/SabbyStarlight
Summary: Day Five of George Eads Appreciation Week!  Favorite Look.The best Jack Dalton is a bruised, bloody, slightly broken Jack Dalton and you can't convince me otherwise.
Series: George Eads Appreciation Week 2020! [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1645582
Comments: 18
Kudos: 38





	Of Bruises, Bloody Knuckles, and Post-Mission Patch Ups

Jack tried his best to blink away the drops of blood that were falling into his eye from the gash above his eyebrow. He went to wipe the worst of it off but a quick glance at his bruised and bloodied knuckles had made him rethink the move. 

"You good?" Mac's voice asked from his left and he schooled his features into a comfortable grin, shaking off the worst of the post-fight pain before his partner could catch a glimpse of it. 

"Yeah, yeah I'm great," Jack’s reassuring smile was made a lot less effective when the movement pulled on his split lip, sending blood trailing down his chin. 

"That looks pretty far from great," Mac frowned, tugging the sleeve of his flannel down over his hand and wiping away the worst of the blood. 

"Naw," Jack pushed his hand away, taking care to make sure and keep his touch gentle, the last thing he needed was the kid thinking he was mad at him. "Don't worry about it, hardly nothin'."

"You're sure?"

"Yup. If it makes you feel better you can look for yourself once we make it to the plane, alright?" Jack offered. "But let's get outta here before they start to wake up." He nodded behind him to the four unconscious men sprawled out on the pavement. "I got my fight in for the day, think that itch has been successfully scratched."

"Along with your face," Mac teased as they began the mile-long hike back to the airstrip they had flown in from. "Scratched, bruised, thoroughly and sufficiently beaten, whatever you wanna call it."

"These?" Jack shook his head, ignoring the beginning traces of a headache he could feel forming. "Battle wounds, brother. Barely even feel 'em."

"I'm checking out those messed up knuckles too," Mac warned. "When we're done."

"Yeah, yeah, I hear ya," Jack waved him off but Mac held firm, dragging the first aid kit out of the overhead storage bin as soon as they were in the air. He dropped it into the seat beside Jack before heading to the small bathroom, returning with a damp washcloth and a hand towel. 

"Get rid of some of that grime so I can see what I'm looking at," He instructed. Jack was a man of his word, and he had told Mac he could check him over once they were safe and sound on the plane so he complied, washing away the worst of the blood sweat and dirt that he had collected during the fight. 

"How many hits did you take?" Mac asked once his face was more or less clean, gently taking Jack's chin in his hand and turning his face towards the cabins overhead light. "I think some of these bruises have bruises."

"I took out four guys, on my own," Jack reminded him, leaning back in his seat and letting Mac fuss over him, cleaning cuts and taping the worst ones closed, knowing it was as much for his partner's own comfort as it was his own. "Without letting them even know you were on the place, so you could get the drive we were sent after. And all it cost us was some bruises. As long as they're on my mug and not yours? Call it what you want but I'm claiming that as a win for us, hoss."

"You know I hate it when you do that, right?" Mac's frown deepened. "Get hurt just so I won't have to? I can throw a punch, Jack. Let them come after me and save you from some of the hurting next time."

"Sorry," Jack shrugged. "Ain't gonna happen. My brain is hardwired to keep you safe, you know that. Hell, if I thought you'd actually wear it and not rip it off to make one of your little doodads? I'd wrap you in bubble wrap before every mission."

"You sure you haven't just considered that as an excuse to buy one of the giant industrial-size rolls of the stuff for you to play with?" Mac grinned, smoothing down one final butterfly bandage. 

"I stand by that as a relaxing, harmless, mode of therapy." Jack smiled back. "You done playin' medic yet?"

"Nope," Mac sat down beside him. "Let me see those hands."

"See 'em?" Jack teased, holding both hands up, out of Mac's reach, waggling sore fingers. 

"Stop," Mac admonished, biting his lip to hold back a smile. “Come on, you said I could check.” 

“Alright,” Jack held back a series of hisses and flinches as Mac cleaned off each of the abrasions on his bruised knuckles with an alcohol wipe and felt along each finger before wrapping a bandage around his hands. 

“Doesn’t feel like anything is broken,” Mac admitted with a relieved sigh once he was done. “And I don’t think any of those punches were enough to land you with a concussion, but you’re gonna be sore for a while.” 

“Told you I was fine,” Jack dug a playful elbow into Mac’s ribs once he had settled into the seat beside him. “Four of them against one Jack Dalton? Not even close to a fair fight. They didn’t’ stand a chance. ‘Sides, between you and me? They all kinda hit like girls anyway. And not girls who know how to throw a decent punch, either.” 

Mac nodded, wheels still turning behind his eyes, not done helping, fixing, as he fidgeted with the first aid kit, repacking unused items. “You want an icepack, maybe? We’ve got a long flight till we make it home and you can get some actual rest.” 

“I’m fine,” Jack dropped a bandaged hand on Mac’s knee. “Bring it down a notch or two, bud, it’s all good. You did your thing, I did mine, and we got the job done. You’ve got me all patched up here, it’s over.”

“Yeah,” Mac looked around the familiar interior of the Phoenix jet again, searching, and failing, to find anything else that needed his attention, so he forced himself to relax back into his seat. “Yeah, okay. Mission accomplished, I guess, even if it did end with you a little more bruised and bleeding than I’d prefer.” 

“I’d take it any day, brother,” Jack smiled, throwing an arm across Mac’s shoulders. “Long as it keeps you safe and sound.” And it was true. If just one of those bruises had ended up on Mac’s face instead of his own, it would have hurt Jack more than any of the others he had sustained. 

Bloodied and bruised may not have been his personal favorite look, but as long as it was on himself and not his partner, Jack would wear it proudly.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this is so short, y'all. Real life caught up with me and I am honestly kinda amazed I have anything to post today at all. Calling it good enough and moving on.


End file.
